Through the Never - BtVS/Supernatural/Angel - 2/10
Title: Through the Never
Author: twisted_slinky
Artist: sarah_jones
Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel/Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Season 6 for SPN. Post S7 for BTVS. Sam is having an out of body experience, and it seems the only person who can help him is a girl who's rather experienced in being a glowing ball of light. Sam/Dawn.
Warnings: Violence, language, innuendos, and some non-explicit sexual encounters of the het variety. Spoilers for BTVS and Angel all seasons; spoilers for SPN through season 6.
Wordcount: ~43k
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural or Angel. Written for fun, not profit.
Author's Notes:Written for the Supernatural Crossover Big Bang. The title is based on the Metallica song of the same name (not anything to do with the Dresden Files).
Setting is post-series for Angel and BtVS. For SPN, the very beginning takes place immediately after Season 5's finale, "Swan Song." And then I'll move into the events of season 6, post "Clap Your Hands if You Believe." So spoilers, guys, even though I curving off onto an AU path. I'd like to also point out that time moves differently in different dimensions, so the year that passes in SPN-land might not be a year in BtVS-land. I'm just going to create my own head-canon when it comes to the Purgatory/gathering heaven's weapons/gathering souls schedule.
Link to Story Masterpost: http://twisted-slinky.livejournal.com/32939.html
Link to Art Masterpost: http://sarah-jones.livejournal.com/105137.html (or see it on her website here)
Chapter 2: Here Comes the Welcome Wiggins
A flutter and a crisp charge to the air; he arrived on the human plane again. Castiel walked amongst people unseen, ever present, and he thought he should feel worthy of his existence. He'd been brought back, after all-destroyed and pieced carefully back together by his Father's hand. And for what reason, if not this…
Sam Winchester, Cas reflected, has always been a large man. Distinctly male with his wide shoulders and narrow hips, gracious mouth and heavy brow. Yet, the angel had always seen some softness in him. A boy's stare, the compassion of a youth glimmering in his eyes, despite his hardships. And, also, the anger of the young, burning fast and hot and out of control. This, Castiel thought, Sam Winchester would never outgrown, no matter his age, no matter how Hell's fire scarred him.
But, as Castiel silently watched the hunter's looming form hold to the shadows, he saw none of the spiritual features of Sam Winchester in those dark hazel eyes. This…this man was no more than a body.
Castiel thought he would feel joy, accomplishment, after saving his friend. For, wasn't this what his Father wanted? Why else would He scrape the pieces back together, reassemble them, if not to do good work, put things as they were. Save Heaven. Save the Winchesters.
Castiel had also thought he would go to Dean, show the man who treated him better than his brothers, show him this thing he had done. This miracle-
But, Castiel could feel it, that nudging sense that something was wrong. He'd failed, somehow, and he wasn't sure he could fix whatever it was he had done… No, he wouldn't run to his friends, not now. Not now that Dean was safe, and Sam roamed the Earth again. No, there were other duties for him. Heaven required his aid. This world required his aid. He couldn't put those problems aside because of a mere…feeling.
A flutter of wings, a crisp charge to the air; he was gone in the blink of an eye.
Dawn knew better. She really did. Life experience had taught her not to touch glowing mystical objects. And, yet-
"Dawn, don't!"
She reached out for the orb, despite Buffy's shout, just letting her fingertips roam over the smooth surface. Warm, very warm, but not enough to burn her. Just enough to feel…alive. It rushed over her: fear, curiosity, excitement. She shared the emotions but knew these weren't entirely hers-they were intense, the fear more spiked, the excitement more needy. Dawn let a breath out, the blood rushing to heat her cheeks when she made another observation. It felt masculine.
There was nothing exact about it, no logic to the claim, just the same tingle she got down her spine when a cute guy was standing beside her in a store, at school, on the bus-it just felt different from a woman's presence, for a reason Dawn really couldn't put her finger on. Willow would have been able to explain it, had tried to once when she was teaching Dawn how to read auras-a pretty easy trick one almost never had time for in life and death situations. Dawn had spent her first week at Stanford trying to get readings on her professors, pick the arrogant d-bags from the socially-distracted academics based on the colors bouncing off of them, and she was pretty sure she'd only accomplished looking extremely studious and a little constipated. Professor Pool still thought she had a wicked crush on him because of all the intense stare-downs…
Still, she'd enjoyed the aura lesson. Mainly because Buffy had sucked at it. Always a plus to best her big sister at something.
Amusement. It rolled off the orb in a wave, and Dawn had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing at the funny tickle it gave her palm.
As soon as that last part sunk in, she lifted her hand from the orb and took a cautious step back.
"Yeah, there's definitely someone inside," she muttered.
Buffy was at her elbow, probably the whole time, though Dawn hadn't really been paying her or her little-sisters-never-listen-if-this-causes-an-Apocalypse-you're-dead tirade much attention. But, as soon as Dawn spoke, Buffy went still, eyes wide.
"Okay, I'll bite-what is it?"
Dawn snorted. "Buffy, it's an Orb of Thesulah. What do you think is in it?"
"Well, smartass, just because it's in an egg carton doesn't mean it's an egg." Buffy paused, as if rethinking that analogy, then went back to subject. "This can't be good. Souls just don't get sucked into these things-I mean, if they did, they wouldn't make very good paperweights."
Dawn had to commend Buffy for reaching out to touch the orb-apparently their whole "if Giles is going to yell at one of us, he can yell at both of us" agreement from last Christmas' eggnog debacle was still in effect. Buffy tapped it first, as if gauging whether or not it might go off like a grenade, then picked it.
"Kinda warmer than a piece of glass should be," she admitted. "Also, oh-so shiny."
Kinda? Dawn raised a brow. There had been no "kinda" about it when she'd touched it. "Do you feel anything?" Dawn asked, leaning forward. "I mean-does it feel, you know, mystically delicious? Like your scythe did to the Slayers?"
"Maybe a little buzzy." Buffy shrugged. "But I've got nothing. Definitely not Slayer related. Guess I need to make a few phone calls to see if the prize inside belongs to-"
"It's not Spike or Angel's souls." Dawn blushed when her sister raised her brow in question. Not that Buffy could really refute the words. No matter how many phone calls she made, it was doubtful she'd be able to track down the vampires. Things were a bit shaky between team dead and team living over the past year, after what happened in L.A. Dawn shrugged, not wanting to bring that part up. "I kind of… It didn't feel familiar. I would know Angel or Spike's, I think. You would have known, Buffy."
That argument seemed to make sense to the Slayer, because her shoulders dropped a little. Her lips struggled with a frown, but she tried to dismiss whatever the comment had brought to mind the same way her sister had-with a shrug. "Alright then. So, we have soul-in-a-bottle. Sounds like we might need to call in some back up. Hope Willow doesn't mind cutting the retreat short."
Dawn was starting to re-think the word "urgent." For the teenage jr. slayers calling her-and, yes, Dawn realized she herself was only eighteen and should probably wait a couple years before verbally berating "teens"-an emergency could be anything from a mishaps with a hair straightener to a decapitated mailman-turned-slug monster being stored in the deep freezer. Lightly salted. So, in her world, at least, "urgent" didn't always mean urgent. While normal people might freak out if a human soul was sitting in their living room, the Summers girls simply worked around it.
"I just don't think we should be storing it in a shoebox," Dawn noted. Her printer made a frustrated noise as it spit out another page of her research paper, shaking the top of the desk as it worked on the next nineteen. "It seems kind of cruel. Also, it's a shoe box. How can it possibly help?"
Buffy shrugged. "Willow's bringing some kind of curse-neutralizing safe to put it in. But for now, shoe box. 'Cause I swear that thing can see us, and it's giving me the wiggins." And she promptly went back to flipping through her weaponry catalog.
Dawn frowned. She knew should be feeling the wiggins, too. Especially since she was almost certain that Buffy was right and that he-it was so a guy soul-could see them. Instead, though, Dawn just felt kind of bad for him. The smell of patent leather aside, cardboard boxes were not great places to spend your day.
Which it had been-one day. Willow had promised she'd be in soon. Buffy had spent an hour on the phone with the witch after the ward-blaring incident, in which Willow assured her friend that if an entity was stuck in the orb, it was probably going to stay in the orb, so long as they didn't accidentally break it. This had, in turn, lead to the orb being nested around a stack of tissue paper inside a boot box.
Yup. Because that's what any demon hunting professional would do.
Dawn rolled her eyes, ready to argue her point again when Willow arrived. Abruptly, as was her way. Buffy answered the knock at the door with a squeal of delight and threw herself into her best friend's arms. Dawn fell into the hug as well, then pushed away, giving the witch a once-over. It had literally been months since Dawn had seen Willow in person (Skyping didn't count), and Willow's red hair had grown out a bit, dangling at her chest in waves, but her peasant skirts and crooked smile remained in place, which Dawn took to mean that her "magic camp" had went well.
"Dawnie!" Willow beamed, moving further into the apartment. "You finally bought a matching couch set-I think you might be the first of us to actually buy furniture. How adult of you! But what does that say about us, Buffy?"
"Yeah, I bought the couch and table, like, ages ago." Dawn smirked, but her good mood faded just a tad. How sad was it that she didn't get around to seeing her old friends, her family, unless an unknown entity showed up to interrupt her study time? But this was what she'd asked for, a few years of pseudo-normal college life away from the big-scaries, right? Right. Like normal was an option when her sister was head Slayer of slay club.
Dawn let her gaze wander to the coffee table, one of her I'm-an-adult-now purchases, where the fore-mentioned boot box sat.
"Oh, new shoes?" Willow asked.
"New soul," Buffy corrected, and led the three to the sofa. "Which is sort of why we called."
Willow nodded and lifted her heavy sling purse off of her shoulder. "Well, thankfully, I've brought a more fitting storage device."
She dug around inside the bag, pulling free a wooden box, just big enough to house the orb. Ruins were carved into every side, the gouged marks dyed purple to look like ornamentation.
Great, a damn curse box, probably filled with salt. My life sucks, Dawn thought, then stood a bit straighter. She'd never called it that before, a "curse box," though she figured the name fit well. But where the hell had the salt reference come fr-unease tightened her chest, and she shot the shoe box a quick, anxious glance.
"Nope, didn't happen." Just a fluke. Because there was no way mystery male soul had just communicated with her from afar.
"What?"
Buffy was making with the staring. Oh, and, look, so was Willow. Dawn gave a nervous chuckle. "Uh, just remembered something I didn't do for class."
The two women took it in stride, Willow turning back to Buffy. "I talked to Giles. He's-what's the right word?-peeved that you've been on vacation so long, and he told me to pick you up a new cell phone. Also, Andy insisted on seeing your new orb friend, too."
Buffy's mouth opened and closed-fish out of water-and she watched Willow pull her laptop free from the over-sized bag. "Will, if you brought Andrew here…"
The witch cut her off. "He'll be joining via web cam."
"Greetings all!" Andrew dramatically welcomed, as soon as Willow had opened the computer. "Oh-I like the apartment, Dawn! I should come over. It looks bigger than mine. I thought the Council budget wouldn't-"
"Hi, Andrew," Dawn interrupted.
Buffy made a face and shared a look with Dawn. It wasn't that they didn't like Andy, really, they just thought he was one of those people you like more if you only see them in small doses. Like twice yearly doses. But Dawn watched her big sister suck it up and force a smile at the laptop camera.
Andrew, hair a little darker, wore a suit and appeared to be on a couch, where a few young women, slayers, were trying to squeeze into the frame. He ignored them, trying, in vain, to push them away. "So," he managed, a little breathless from the effort, "I called Willow to tell her about the awkward but somewhat titillating dream I had about a pizza man and an extra cheese pizza-you know, the dream I called to tell you about yesterday?-and then Willow told me she didn't have time to hear it because she needed to research your unwanted soul issue, and I told her-"
Buffy held up a hand to stop him. "Andy, I really just need Willow to get a read on this thing, so, you know, shut up. Please. And no mentioning that dream in front of my baby sister again."
Andrew pouted, averting his eyes upward, as if he could somehow see the sheepish witch holding the computer in her lap. Willow cleared her throat. "Actually, Andrew had a good theory about why the soul appeared."
"Really?" Buffy asked, frowning.
Dawn tried to follow the conversation but found herself easing down to sit on the sofa. She carefully reached out, lifting the top of the shoe box so that a sliver of light from the orb slipped out. Thank you. Dawn felt the gratitude radiating off the ball of light but tried not to let it show on her face.
"...And then ecto suckto, it's zapped inside," Andrew was saying. "You know, like on Ghostbusters."
"Wait, are you talking about those guns that shoot light?" Buffy asked.
Dawn frowned. "I missed something."
Andrew huffed at having to repeat himself. "As I was saying, Willow told me the orb is basically meant to hold a soul until it can be put back into its body. So, I thought, what if someone tried to summon a soul, but didn't bring anything to put it in? Or, what if they meant to summon something else from the nether, but got a human soul instead? It would be lost, ungrounded, zooming around without enough form to even show itself as a ghost. If it flew past an Orb of Thesulah or a similar vessel, then, the orb would suck it in, because, you know, that's its job."
Dawn smiled, "Oh, like the ghost traps on Ghostbusters. I get it."
"Exactly! Like an electromagnetic field generator in a mouse trap, minus the pedal and batteries. The orb's just more magic than fringe science." Andrew grinned, excited. "Which reminds me, I've been trying to get Giles to okay a budget that would let us try and build an extra large Ecto Containment Unit out of movie props, so if you don't mind talking to him about-"
Buffy reached over, shutting the laptop and cutting off Andrew's request. She glanced up at Willow. "He'll believe me if I say the wi-fi cut out, won't he?"
"Saw it with my own eyes," Willow chirped, and slipped the computer away. "Okay, back on task here. So, going with Andy's theory, it's pretty likely the soul didn't actually mean to interrupt your evening."
"Well it did," Buffy pouted. Then she seemed to rethink the statement. "Well, it would have, if I actually had something resembling a social life."
"Touch it," Dawn blurted. She instinctively curled her own fingers into fists to keep from doing just that. "Maybe you can reach out with your mojo and communicate with him."
Buffy made a face. "Him?"
But Willow nodded. "That's what I'm here for. It's pretty easy to read a mystical object, at least get a feel for its intentions. I've been teaching my students about it all month." Her smile widened with pride at the word 'students'. "They're doing really well, too. Wish I'd known what they know back when we had the Magic Shop."
"We get it-business at Hogwarts is booming. Now, make with the soul groping." Buffy pushed the shoe box at the witch. "We'll just pretend I didn't say that last part…"
"Noted." Dawn was fairly sure the word didn't actually leave her mouth. She was too busy watching, breathless with anticipation, as Willow reached down, gently lifting the orb between three fingers. Its glow was just as unwavering and casting a pale light over her face when she leveled it in front of her eyes.
Willow frowned, her concentration turning to frustration. "Huh."
Buffy leaned closer. "Bad 'huh'?"
Dawn felt it in the pit of her stomach: fresh fear.
Why did it have to be a witch?
Dawn's eyes widened a little-those words, they were louder now, when she leaned closer to the orb. "Did you hear him?" she asked, at a whisper. Willow's dumbfounded expression was answer enough. Dawn wasn't sure why, but she covered the question with another. "I mean, did it communicate with you?"
Willow sat the orb down into the rune-covered box-the "curse box," as the soul had called it-and closed the wooden lid with a snap. And, immediately, the sense of dread disappeared from Dawn. She took a breath.
"Nothing happened," Willow announced, sounding as if she'd somehow been wronged by the orb. "Well, this is embarrassing. This never happens to me. I usually get some sort of reading, but all I felt was a living soul. Human. No intent, not origin, no identity." She shook her head, looking distressed. "Maybe I'm losing my touch."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Okay, before you work yourself into a brood… Could the reason you didn't feel anything be because it's just a human soul? That's not quite totally mystical, right? It's more…common."
Willow pouted. "Well, sure. But, what kind of witch can't communicate with the dead when the dead is in her palm? I'm a failure."
"No, you're an awesome femme-Dumbledore. The soul is probably just not on the chatty side."
Dawn stared at her sister, tempted to contradict her, but, instead, she simply sat back against the cushions. Because she knew for a fact the soul was actually of the chatty sort. But she also knew Willow was right-if anyone could have communicated with it, it should have been the most powerful witch on the block. So why was she the one hearing it…feeling it?
Dawn decided it was time to welcome that expected "wiggins" right about now.
A smart girl, a girl with a sense of self-preservation, would probably have spoken up, Dawn knew. It was confession time. Only, she couldn't quite force herself to tell then what she'd felt. How she knew it was a guy. How afraid he'd been to be near a witch. How empty she felt now that his nudging emotions were severed from her. Over the past few years, post-Glory, Dawn had built up her place in the group as the normal one, the girl-Xander with an academic upgrade. Smart, snappy dresser, good with languages: Dawn. Destined to be a kick-ass Watcher. Definitely not a freak anymore. And, bringing this up would-
Saved by the bell. Or, in this case, the cell phone.
The ringtone sounded from inside Willow's bag, and she forced a smile. "Oh, remember that cell phone Giles asked me to pick up for you?"
Buffy bit her lip. "I'm about to get Brittished, aren't I?"
Nevertheless, she took the dreaded phone call, stepping away to perch on the edge of Dawn's desk in preparation for a thorough talking-down-to, twisted-knickers style. Willow had the decency to pretend she didn't know how awkward that conversation would be-Dawn knew she shouldn't be the one feeling guilty about that, but she was. After all, she could have easily of talked Buffy into getting back into her slaying groove. All it would have taken was a particularly nagging comment along the lines of "get your ass out of my apartment." Still, for all her complaints, Dawn didn't mind having her big sister nearby. The way they lived their lives…well, there was no certainty she'd always have the chance be with her family.
"…so I don't think we should destroy it," Willow was saying.
Dawn realized she'd tuned her out, and that she was currently spying on her sister's tense back, trying to distinguish what Giles might be saying on the other end. Oops. She nodded, trying to act as if she were paying attention. "No, definitely shouldn't destroy him-it," Dawn rattled. "Seems kind of inhumane. If we destroy the orb, where will the soul go? It would be lost, just, you know, wandering the void or whatever."
Willow's brow was wrinkled in a way that was teetering on "resolve face" but still in the land of "what are you hiding?" face. "That's what I just said," Willow said, slowly, as if she were speaking to a child. "Dawnie, has this orb thing gotten under your skin? I mean, I know it was kind of weird-no one expects a soul-but, I can find a place to store it. One of my students can put it in safekeeping until we find out who it belongs to…"
"No!" Dawn snapped. She forced a small smile. Out of sight would not necessarily mean out of mind in this case. Dawn could hear him, the soul, and she was the only one. She had a nagging feeling that she already had the answer as to that big fat "why?" but she refused to bring it up until she had more facts. And more facts meant spending a little more time with glowy-ball-guy.
"Well, alright. If you're sure." Willow looked doubtful. "But just keep in mind, even though it seems harmless, it might have been cast out for a good reason. Having a soul doesn't necessarily make someone a nice person."
"I'll be careful," Dawn assured.
"I would feel better if it were locked up somewhere-holding onto someone's soul is a lot of responsibility. For all we know, it belongs to a living person who's now finding themselves all Dexter-like. Or it might belong to someone dead. It might need to move on to the next plane and-"
"I get it." Dawn took the wooden box, sitting it in her lap. The wood already felt warm. "It should be safe here, until we have time to figure out who it belongs to. For all we know, it came here for a reason…"
And she let that thought go, because Buffy was stomping back over to them, looking red-faced. "So, as it turns out," the slayer announced, "my vacation is over. Apparently demons are spawning in Florida."
Willow perked up. "Where in Florida?"
"Umm-all of it?" Buffy shrugged. "Anyhow, the last time these guys decided it was mating season, there were dinosaurs. When they finished making with the nature documentary? Not so much."
"Leave it to Giles to bring up dinosaurs to get you back in the game." Dawn smirked. "Are you going to need any help from my end?"
Buffy's smile was gentle. She leaned over the couch, running her fingers through her sister's long hair. "Nope, Dawnie. We've got it covered. You just stay here. Do your homework. Regain a little normal for the rest of us, okay?"
Normal. Dawn pulled her gaze from her sister, staring at the curse box instead. Normal so wasn't happening.
Pizza. Extra anchovies. Check. Phone call to Brittney about the "slug incident" in Cleveland. Check. Books returned to campus library. Fines and Buffy's parking tickets paid. Check, and check. Keep an eye on the box. Double check.
It had been six hours since Willow and Buffy had left, due south-east, with an arsenal of the mystical and pointy variety. Dawn had managed to keep busy. Until now. Sure, there was studying to be done. Always. Maybe some laundry, too. But, for the most part, her day was reaching an end, the point where exhaustion led to couch potato syndrome-which was a particularly dangerous illness considering that relaxation would lead to contemplation and idle hands. Two very bad things.
Dawn plopped down at the center of the sofa, sinking into the cushions. The curse box sat mere inches from her knees. Silent. "Of course it's silent, it's a box," Dawn muttered. A box, as opposed to an oh-so chatty orb. Genius logic, there. Dawn huffed and leaned forward, snatching up her prize. She balanced it on her thighs.
"It's not dangerous," she assured herself, "Buffy wouldn't leave it with me if it were dangerous. Nope."
Again with the faulty logic winning. Dawn couldn't help it, though. She lifted the box's lid. Immediately, the warm yellow glow spilled out over her fingers, and, with it, a sense of gratitude. She reached down, pressing two fingers against the crystal. Her skin tingled with the connection.
"I guess being a glowy ball of light sucks, right?" She forced a small smile. "I should probably know the answer to that question."
'Tell me about it.'
"Hope you weren't claustrophobic in life."
'After being in the cage, that was paradise.' Amusement came in the form of a distant, breathy sound. Dawn recognized it as laughter.
"What cage?"
The orb went quiet, and Dawn wondered if maybe she'd lost the connection. The voice returned, though, a moment later, along with a sense of apprehension. 'You can hear me… You can hear me, Dawn?'
Dawn frowned. "How do you know my name?"
'Uh-your sister said it about a thousand times. Well, she said 'Dawnie,' but I figured you wouldn't want…'
"Only my family's allowed to call me that." She frowned, suddenly realizing how stupid the question had been. "No one else could hear you, so I wasn't sure if you could hear them."
'Yeah, I figured.' The laughter came again, quieter. 'Before you ask, I have no clue why you can hear me… I'm Sam. You can quit mentally referring to me as 'soul-guy' now.'
"Sam. I like it. Rolls off the tongue better," Dawn admitted, and blushed. That had sounded kind of flirty. She squashed that thought immediately. "So, Sam, any idea how you ended up in my apartment without a body? And, speaking of which, where is your body? Are you dead?"
'Answer to all those questions: it's a long story, and I'm sure I'm missing a few pages of it.'
"Try me." He was quiet again, as if considering the opening. It hadn't occurred to Dawn until that moment that she wasn't the only one having to put out some unearned trust. "Jeeze, you're a lost soul stuck in an orb. Who else are you going to talk to?"
'Point taken… Would you believe me if I said I'm pretty sure my body is in a different dimension?'
Dawn raised a brow, her voice decidedly unenthused. "Wow. This must be a Thursday… So, dimensional travel-it's probably best if you start at the beginning."
READ CHAPTER 3